


Sleeping Dragons

by annella



Series: Sleeping Dragons [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, mccree is a magician, sentient tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/annella
Summary: Jesse McCree is a purveyor of enchanted tattoos who faces his greatest challenge yet when Hanzo Shimada shows up one day needing his help.





	

Hanzo Shimada didn't look anything like McCree's usual clientele. His suit was immaculately tailored and McCree was pretty sure his shiny shoes were bespoke. His hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, the silver streaks at his temples shining in stark contrast to the deep black of his hair, and his impeccably trimmed and shaped goatee made McCree feel suddenly self conscious about his own scruffy face.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked, standing up from his chair behind the front desk. The man was staring at him wide-eyed, but when McCree spoke, he blinked and composed himself.

"I have an appointment."

McCree glanced at his appointment book and back at the man who was still staring at him. He hadn't been expecting this. "You're Mr. Shimada, then?" Well, damn. He'd been expecting some scruffy teenager, not this sleek, impossibly handsome man. Oh God, he was starting to sweat already.

Mr. Shimada nodded. "Hanzo, please." He smiled shyly, his eyes downcast as he fiddled with his briefcase. McCree couldn't help smiling back, especially when Hanzo glanced up through his lashes at him and blushed.

"Awesome," McCree replied, rubbing his hands together. His right hand was damp, and he grimaced a little before wiping it on his jeans. "I'm Jesse McCree, you can call me Jesse or McCree, I answer to both. I'll just get Mei to mind the desk, so if you wanna go on up, my workshop is first door on the left." He pointed to the stairs behind him, and Hanzo nodded once before heading up.

It was good timing; Mei had just finished another session with her girlfriend, and they were both laughing as they came down the stairs. Zarya flexed her bicep for McCree, showing off the almost completed sleeve, and he hummed in appreciation. The way she was going, there wouldn't be much left to tattoo in a few months.

"Mind the desk? My three o'clock is here."

"I saw," Mei said cheerfully. "The hot guy?" She smirked at him.

"He's not!-- Okay, he's really fucking hot, but unlike you, I don't date my clients."

Mei stuck her tongue out at him. "It was only the one!"

"Damn, Mei, he's gorgeous," McCree groaned. "What do I do?" 

Mei sighed. "Flirt with him, then have sex with him. God, Jesse, you're useless."

McCree glared at her and wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans again before heading upstairs.

~

McCree flung himself into his chair in his workshop, taking off his hat and tossing it on the stand behind him. Hanzo was standing nervously in the centre of the room, looking around at the photos tacked to the walls and magical paraphernalia scattered all over every available surface. He looked uncomfortable, and McCree pushed the other chair over with his foot.

"Take a seat."

Hanzo sat down slowly, his hands clutched together in his lap. "I see I have come to the right place," he said in a quiet, deep voice. 

"Yeah, if you're after more than just a picture." McCree gestured to the bookshelf in one corner of the room, piled high with ancient books, leatherbound tomes, and carefully labelled containers. "I can do all kinds of stuff, and if you're after something unique, we can work together and figure it out." He then looked shrewdly at Hanzo; McCree was usually quite good at guessing what his clients were after.

"Let me guess," he said, "protection?" Hanzo looked like a wealthy businessman, and McCree's protection spells were his most highly sought after ink.

Hanzo frowned. "No. I apologise; I should have been more specific in my email." He loosened his tie and pulled it off, and McCree blinked and tried not to stare as he shrugged his jacket off and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Uh--" McCree said, his mind blanking and sweat springing up on his brow as Hanzo slid his left arm out of his shirtsleeve to reveal an intricate tattoo of a dragon covering his entire well-muscled arm and the left side of his chest. It was beautiful, and McCree's hands itched to touch it.

"I require a touchup," Hanzo said. "I have had this for many years, and recently both the ink and the enchantment have been fading at an alarming rate. I contacted my tattoo artist back in Japan and she informed me that I would require a very _specific_ type of artist to repair it." He looked at McCree, hope in his eyes. "I think you are that person."

"Okay, okay," McCree said, standing up and approaching Hanzo for a closer look, surreptitiously wiping his hand again. "Do you mind if I touch your arm? Get a feel for what's in there?"

Hanzo didn't reply but nodded, lifting his arm for McCree to hold. Trying to ignore Hanzo's sharp intake of breath at the cool touch of his metal hand, McCree held his arm with his prosthetic while he ran his fingers over the fading ink, his eyes closed as he felt the form of the enchantment take shape in his mind.

 _A blue flash; giant dragons, twins, coiling to strike; sharp desire to protect, to overcome; loss and pain and duty and loyalty_ \--

"Whoa," he said quietly, letting Hanzo's arm drop to his side. "That's -- whoa." He staggered back, almost falling into his chair again. "Dragons?"

Hanzo nodded. "They are … a family heirloom, shall we say. And protection."

"Yeah, I see it," McCree said, still feeling slightly stunned by what he had felt. "Shit, I ain't never felt anything like that before." 

"You don't have to worry about writing the enchantment," Hanzo said, clicking his briefcase open and taking out a sheet of paper. "I have it here. You simply need to recite it as you retouch the artwork."

McCree looked at the page handed to him. It was a long incantation, all in Japanese, with a transliteration under each line. "Huh," McCree said. "You're gonna need to give me time to practice this, darlin'."

"I know. And I am happy to help with the pronunciation."

McCree looked up to see Hanzo smiling. Unlike the shy smile from earlier, this one lit up his face, and Jesse smiled back. "Alright, then," McCree said cheerfully, "we got half an hour before my next appointment, so we can get started now if you like."

Hanzo frowned. "I… I suggest we practice somewhere outside," he said delicately. "The dragons -- they may activate as we work on the incantation."

"Activate?" McCree asked, curious.

"They are quite large," Hanzo replied. He looked to be about to say more, but instead tightened his lips.

"So what happens while I'm working on your ink and reciting this incantation?"

"They will be fine." He smiled again, a little wider this time. "I have had it repaired once before. They enjoy the tattoo gun; they will sleep while you are doing that."

"You're talkin' like they're sentient," McCree noted.

"Sentient. Yes." Hanzo mulled it over for a moment. "I suppose they are, in a way."

"So, uh," McCree rubbed his cheek, thinking. "I'm closing late tonight but I'm free after eight. We can go somewhere private. Isolated." He blushed; it sounded like he was asking Hanzo out on a date.

Hanzo blushed slightly as well, his high cheekbones turning slightly pink as he fixed his clothes. "That… that would be good. Should I meet you here?"

"Yeah, I can drive us somewhere. I know a place."

Hanzo nodded, still blushing. "Then I shall see you at eight, Jesse." He was reluctant to meet McCree's eyes as he stood and held his hand out for McCree to shake. Grinning again, McCree took his hand and as their palms touched, he could have sworn he saw a brief flash of blue light from Hanzo's arm. He watched Hanzo leave, smiling as he realised the man did not seem anywhere near as composed as he had been when they met.

A few moments later Mei came upstairs and poked her head into his workshop. "What did you do to that poor man?" she accused. 

"What?"

Mei came in and flung herself down in the chair so recently occupied by Hanzo. "He rushed out of here all red in the face and flustered."

"I didn't do anything!" McCree couldn't help smiling; the thought of Hanzo being flushed and flustered was quite a nice image.

"Pity," Mei sighed.

"But, uh, he's coming back tonight after I close up. For uh. Research stuff." McCree rubbed his face, feeling the heat of his own blush.

"Uh huh." 

McCree didn't even need to look at Mei to know she'd have a ridiculously smug look on her face. Damn it all, he probably had the same expression. "I think he liked me," he said dreamily. 

Mei laughed and punched his arm. "Remember, if you have sex here, lock your door!"

McCree glared at her as she laughed some more and left him alone to think about the beautiful man he'd just met. 

~

McCree was locking up at a few minutes past eight when Hanzo arrived. He'd changed from his immaculate business attire into slim-cut jeans and a plain t-shirt, and McCree tried very hard not to stare at how the thin cotton clung to his beautifully muscled chest and arms. His hair was more loosely tied now as well, and McCree's fingers twitched with the desire to push aside the dark locks falling over his face. He felt somewhat underdressed in his old jeans and loose flannel shirt, and he wished he'd had time to go home and change.

"I, uh, I'll just be a moment," he said, fumbling with his keys and adjusting his hat. "Okay, um. So. I can drive us, if you're okay with that?"

"That's fine," Hanzo said. "However, you should bear in mind that if I am not home by midnight, my brother will send assassins after you."

McCree laughed, but stuttered to a stop when he saw the intense look in Hanzo's eyes. "Oh, you -- you're serious?"

Hanzo's face split in a wide grin, the happiest McCree had seen him. "That was a joke. I can take care of myself, Jesse."

"Screw you," McCree muttered, leading the way to where his small car was parked around the back.

"Where are we going?" Hanzo asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

"Not far," McCree replied, starting the car and maneuvering them into the light traffic on the main street. "It's just out of town, and it's real quiet, I promise. Shouldn't be anyone else there."

"Good," Hanzo said quietly.

McCree glanced at him as drove. "You seem awful worried about these dragons," he said delicately. "Did something happen?"

"Not recently," Hanzo replied, looking somber. "But as a young man, while I was learning to control them, they could be -- difficult." He glanced at his left arm and ran a finger over his bicep. The dragons coiled around his arm glowed briefly, and he smiled. "I have not had any problems with them accidentally harming anyone for many years, but I have felt the enchantment fading along with the ink these past few months, and I confess I have felt my control over them slip a little at times."

"So that's why you want to be somewhere out of the way. It could be dangerous."

"You will not be in danger," Hanzo reassured him, "I promise you."

"Hey, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask," McCree joked, and was pleased to see Hanzo smile briefly before hiding it with a hand over his mouth and a glance out of the window.

"That has nothing to do with it," Hanzo replied, his voice rich with amusement. "Although who knows how the dragons will react to our practice tonight?"

The implication was clear in his tone, and McCree gulped. 

~

It didn't take long to arrive at their destination. McCree stopped the car near a small copse of trees and they slowly got out. The sun had only recently dropped below the horizon and the sky was alight with bright colours, streaked with pink and gold and purple.

"Where are we?" Hanzo asked, his voice hushed. He followed McCree as he walked the short distance to a still lake, the dry grass crunching under their feet. 

"Just somewhere quiet," McCree replied. Very few people ever came here; he'd only ever seen others here once. It was a beautiful, serene place, and he sat down on the grass a few yards from the edge of the water.

"It's beautiful," Hanzo said and, with a sidelong glance at McCree, added, "and if I didn't know better, I would think you brought me here with an ulterior motive."

McCree cleared his throat awkwardly. "Let's get started, hmm?"

The light was fading quickly, and McCree set up the small lantern he kept in his trunk for late night visits to his quiet place. It cast a glow over Hanzo's face, the angles and planes of his features being thrown into contrasts of shadows and light.

"I gotta say, I'm curious about what these dragons do," McCree said as Hanzo pulled the incantation out of his pocket and unfolded it, handing it to McCree.

Hanzo looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before standing and walking to the edge of the water. He stood there for several seconds, his head down, unmoving, and McCree saw a blue glow begin to shine from his left arm. 

Hanzo straightened, raising his arms, and called in a great voice, " _Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!_ " As McCree watched, wide eyed, the blue glow coiled up out of his skin and formed into two giant serpent-like dragons, the ones McCree had sensed earlier in the day, bursting out in a near-blinding flash of light as they spun and danced across the surface of the lake. 

For several long moments, McCree watched as the spectral dragons flew away from him into the night before they vanished, their light fading. Hanzo turned to look at him and all he could do was gape at the man.

"That was -- that was _beautiful_ ," McCree finally said.

Hanzo smiled, almost shyly. "I assumed that in your line of work, you would have seen something like this before."

McCree shook his head. "Never, darlin'," he replied, his voice full of awe. "I've seen some weird shit, some pretty spectacular shit, but I ain't ever seen anything like that." He walked up to Hanzo, standing on his left side, and reached out a tentative hand. "May I?" he asked.

Hanzo nodded and lifted his arm. McCree slid his fingertips over the ink as he had done earlier in the day, but this time he felt something different from the enchantment within. Exhaustion, glory, and satisfaction shimmered through him, and he dropped Hanzo's arm after a moment.

"Incredible," he murmured.

They stood for a moment, both looking out over the lake to where the dragons had vanished, before Hanzo cleared his throat. "Shall we get started?"

~

McCree only knew a few words of Japanese, and the words of the incantation were, to him, merely a collection of syllables. Hanzo spoke a line and McCree repeated it, reading the transliteration carefully as he did so. Committing the entire thing to memory would take some time, and when he said as much, Hanzo smiled.

"I suppose we'll just have to meet up again before you start work on me."

McCree winked. "Why, Mr. Shimada, are you _flirting_ with me?"

Hanzo didn't break his gaze. "Would it be a problem if I was?" There was a sudden blue light from the dragons, which had been quiet until now.

McCree hadn't been expecting that, having assumed their banter was just that -- banter. Not that he objected in the slightest. He was thankful that it was completely dark by now and the lantern light probably wasn't enough to show how much he was blushing. His face burned hot, the blush spreading to his ears and down his chest, and he stuttered for a moment, ducking his head so the brim of his hat hid his face. "I, uh. Um. I mean-- it's not--"

Hanzo nodded. "I understand." He turned away a little, and the light faded.

"No!" McCree blurted out. "I mean -- no, it's not a problem. At all." He cleared his throat and was about to say something else, probably something inane, when Hanzo leaned in and kissed him.

It was gentle, a mere touch of the lips, and just as McCree closed his eyes and leaned in for more, he saw the dragons flare blue.

~

It was a quiet drive back to town. Not uncomfortable, which McCree had been dreading, but contemplative.

"You seem uncomfortable. I apologise." Hanzo didn't look at McCree when he spoke, and McCree stared at his profile for a moment before watching the road again.

"Nah. Not at all," he replied. It was true; he felt warm companionship from the man next to him, and McCree had never been the overly talkative type. He got the impression Hanzo was the same. "I really liked kissing you," he admitted. 

"As did I," Hanzo said quietly, and when McCree glanced back at him, he was smiling.

"But I barely know you," McCree added.

Hanzo sighed. "You are right."

"Wait, lemme finish," McCree said quickly. "I barely know you but I'd be real happy to change that. So when I'm done with your tattoo--"

"Why, Mr. McCree, are you asking me out on a date?" Hanzo asked, expertly parroting McCree's earlier question.

"Yeah," he replied, "I think I am."

~

"Where do you want me to drop you off?" McCree asked when they got back to his studio.

"Here is good," Hanzo replied, "I parked my car just around the corner."

They looked at one another in the dimness of the car, streetlamps sending shafts of light across Hanzo's face, and McCree could feel his heart pounding. He'd never been good at this; he could flirt as easily as breathing, but any more than that? He was useless. Should he lean in for a kiss? Shake his hand? Maybe he--

His train of thought was interrupted by Hanzo cupping his cheek before sliding his hand around the back of McCree's neck and pulling him close, knocking his hat off in the process. The kiss was more intense this time, and as McCree tentatively reached out to touch Hanzo's arm, he felt a sudden jolt of emotion as his fingers slid over the tattoo.

_Desire, warm and delicate tendrils of want, fear and--_

McCree jerked back and stared at Hanzo, his mouth agape. "They -- they feel--"

"I know," Hanzo said wryly, leaning in and pressing his forehead against McCree's. "When I am feeling somewhat more _intense_ emotion… they betray me."

"Don't know about that, darlin'," McCree replied, wrapping his hand around Hanzo's forearm, "but I do think they give me an unfair advantage." He tilted his head and kissed Hanzo again, parting his lips and humming appreciatively when Hanzo did the same.

It became heated quickly, McCree's desire spurred on by being able to feel Hanzo's own need through the dragons. Desire quickly became lust, and McCree moaned and pulled Hanzo closer, wishing he could tug him into his lap. They were right outside his tattoo studio, they could go upstairs, keep going--

McCree pulled away with a gasp. He was hard and straining in his jeans, shaking, nearly overcome with his need for this man. "Damn, darlin'," he forced out, his breath coming fast and loud. Hanzo was breathing heavily as well, and McCree suddenly realised that his dragons were not only glowing, but seemed to be almost rising up out of his arm and chest.

"Shit!" he yelped, pulling back. Hanzo glanced down and cursed, leaning back away from McCree and taking a deep breath.

"They won't hurt you," Hanzo said. "They are simply… reactive." He looked down at his arm and chuckled as the dragons settled again. "I think they like you."

McCree laughed nervously. "Heh. That's good to know." He took Hanzo by the hand and pulled him in for another kiss, telling himself _just a little more_. Hanzo was willing and eager, moaning softly as McCree bit his lip gently before sliding his tongue into Hanzo's mouth.

After a few more minutes of this, McCree reluctantly pulled away from Hanzo's mouth. The slight whimper which escaped the other man at the loss of contact was almost enough to break his resolve, and he only just managed to resist going back for more. 

"I should -- I should let you get home," he murmured. 

Hanzo nodded. "Yes. Yes, that is -- a good idea."

"Not that I wouldn't happily drag you up to my studio to keep going, y'know."

There was a quiet chuckle from Hanzo. "I would let you."

"Damn, you're not making this easy."

They sat in silence for a minute before Hanzo finally moved away. "When should we practice this again?" McCree asked.

Hanzo looked thoughtful. "I am going to be in a conference for most of this week. But I believe I can see you briefly on Saturday."

"Saturday's good," McCree said. It was a few days away, and he figured he could use the time to practise the spell and hopefully get most of it down. "And then if you think I've got the spell right, I've got a block of time free Sunday afternoon."

"Sounds good," Hanzo replied, smiling and kissing him again. McCree happily went along with it, sliding his fingers into Hanzo's hair. It was just as soft and silky as it looked, and Hanzo hummed appreciatively at his caress.

"And after that--" McCree said, biting off a moan when Hanzo moved his mouth to his neck, biting gently and licking.

"After that?"

"I, uh." McCree took a deep breath. "Look, I don't mean no offense, but we gotta wait until I'm finished doing this tattoo."

Hanzo pulled back, a serious look on his face. "Is this a professionalism thing?" McCree nodded, and Hanzo smiled. "I understand." He caressed McCree's face, running his fingers through his beard. "No sex until you're finished. But I do hope I can still kiss you."

McCree barked out a laugh. "Darlin', it's a bit late for that." 

Hanzo laughed as he once again claimed McCree's mouth, and it was some time before McCree got home that night.

~

McCree was a little nervous on Sunday. He'd blocked out the entire day, knowing a piece that size would take several hours to complete and that he'd need the morning to prepare the room and perform a few small rituals before the casting of the spell. To try to calm his nerves, he closed his eyes and recited the incantation under his breath, repeating the words he'd been practicing in his spare time for the past few days. It didn't work; all he could think about was the previous evening: Hanzo saying the phrases in his rough voice and rewarding McCree with kisses when he got the pronunciation right.

It had been very late by the time Hanzo decreed him proficient, but McCree suspected an ulterior motive.

He took a swig from his water bottle and checked, again, that all his tools were lined up, before resuming pacing. This was how Hanzo found him at noon, and McCree turned at the quiet knock on the door to see Hanzo leaning against the frame, smiling slightly.

"You look nervous," Hanzo commented, coming in and closing the door firmly behind him.

"Yeah, a little," McCree admitted. "Don't wanna screw up the spell, y'know?"

Hanzo took a step towards him, tilting his head back and smiling. "You won't," he said confidently, brushing a lock of McCree's hair out of his face. "I have faith in you."

God, just having him this close… McCree exhaled through his nose and leaned down to kiss him.

"No," Hanzo said firmly, placing a finger on his lips and pushing him away. "You don't get to do that until we're finished here."

"But--"

"I don't want you getting distracted." Hanzo stepped back and pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor and heading towards the bed.

"Yeah, 'cause that's not gonna distract me at all," McCree muttered, watching his ass in those tight jeans. He wiped his sweaty palm on his thigh and went to get himself set up while Hanzo got comfortable on the bed.

"I'm gonna take a short pause after each recitation, that okay?" McCree asked, the tattoo gun poised to start work.

"That's fine," Hanzo replied.

"And let me know if you need me to stop for a bit longer, but I can't stop partway through."

"I know." 

"Right. Okay." McCree took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of disinfectant and machinery clear his head, and leaned down to begin work.

It was difficult; quite possibly more difficult than any work he'd ever done. Not only was the linework complex, but having to recite the spell as he worked added a lot of stress. Hanzo's presence was also a great distraction, and whenever McCree let his skin brush against Hanzo's tattoo, he felt a surge of emotion from the dragons. 

For now, they were quiet, giving off a sensation of sleepy enjoyment. Lulled by the tattoo gun, as Hanzo had promised. It was almost relaxing, in a way. 

By the time McCree had recited the spell three times, he was sweating and had to put the gun down to wipe his face and hand. "Hot work," he grunted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Mmm," Hanzo hummed in agreement. McCree glanced up at him and was surprised to see him flushed and sweating a bit himself.

"You okay?" he asked, grabbing a clean cloth from the stack next to him and passing it to Hanzo.

"I am fine," Hanzo said tightly. "Just … keep going. When you are able."

"Okay, darlin'," McCree said dubiously, "but let me know if you need a longer break, alright?"

The only response he got was a short nod, and he got back to work.

 

Half an hour later, he was sweating for reasons beyond the stress and the work. The dragons had slowly awoken, and their emotions were no longer even slightly relaxing. Each accidental brush of skin filled him with desire, and he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the words.

"Shit," he cursed eventually, finishing an incantation and putting the tattoo gun down. 

"I am sorry," Hanzo said, his voice stiff. "I can't -- I can't help it." He was breathing heavily, inhaling deeply through his nose.

"I know, sweetheart," McCree said, taking a deep breath of his own. Residual lust was still coursing through his veins, and he groaned, leaning his forehead against Hanzo's thigh. "God, I just want to -- push you down and--" He cut himself off with another groan and, despite knowing it was probably a bad idea, reached out to slide a hand over Hanzo's shoulder.

It hit him again like a punch to the gut. Searing desire, desperation, white-hot _want_ ; he looked up at Hanzo, unsurprised to see his face flushed and his eyes dark. For the life of him, he couldn't move his hand, and the torrent of desire was unending.

"You need to take a break?" McCree asked, eventually managing to break the contact between them. It barely helped, as those same emotions were now running riot through _him_. Damn, he needed a break himself. If this was what the next few hours were going to be like, he might have to excuse himself to the bathroom and release a bit of the tension.

"That will not help," Hanzo muttered. He shifted in his seat, glancing at McCree and away before attempting to surreptitiously adjust his jeans. McCree blushed fiery red and turned away, quickly adjusting his own pants to alleviate a little bit of the pressure on his dick.

"Do you think they'll go back to sleep?" 

"Unlikely." Hanzo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "We should keep going. I can control myself, I assure you."

"Okay. Okay." McCree quickly went to wash his hands in the sink in the corner of the room, taking the opportunity to splash some cold water on his face. "Shoulda set up a bucket of ice," he muttered.

Hanzo chuckled softly, sounding slightly desperate. It was going to be a _very_ long afternoon.

~

Several hours later, and they were both in a bad way. The dragons, no longer content to stay coiled within the tattoo, were shifting and curling around Hanzo's body, almost caressing him as McCree's increasingly husky voice recited the spell of strength and control. His hand was shaking badly, and it took every ounce of his strength to control it while wielding the tattoo gun. Thankfully his prosthetic hand was not plagued with such difficulties, and he was able to hold Hanzo steady while he worked. The metal was also blessedly unaffected by the enchanted tattoo; McCree would have cracked long before now if he had had to deal with it from _both_ hands.

Hanzo called for frequent breaks, even going so far as to go outside for some fresh air before coming back in and putting his entire head under the cold tap. McCree could clearly hear his heavy breathing while he worked, and he was almost dreading the last bit of work he had to do: Hanzo's chest.

McCree drained another water bottle, tossing it into the corner with the half dozen other empties. His throat was dry and sore from the recitation, and he cleared his throat. 

"Home stretch, sweetheart." He got comfortable on his stool again and glanced at Hanzo. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Hanzo said quietly. He looked at McCree, his eyes dark and heated. "And when you are done, I plan to take you _right here_."

McCree didn't trust himself to answer, so he took a deep breath and got to work, trying once again to ignore his dick throbbing painfully in his jeans. _Soon_ , he thought to himself. 

~

As he had predicted, the last part was the hardest. McCree had to get right up close to Hanzo's chest, his prosthetic hand gently cupping his pectorals while he worked on the ink just above his nipple. Hanzo's breath tickled his hair, and as he breathed hard between verses, McCree couldn't help but notice that Hanzo's nipples had stiffened up.

It took all his strength not to close the few inches between them and _lick_.

The dragons were not helping in the slightest. They coiled around Hanzo's body, writhing and dancing all over him, and whenever they passed through McCree's body, he was left with a heated rush of lust. They were almost caressing him, and he nearly bit clean through his lip when they left Hanzo's body completely to wind around him.

"Oh god," he muttered, taking a breath and leaning back for a moment. He was almost done; only one more recitation would be needed for the last bit of work, and then--

The dragons wound their way down his body, spreading desire wherever they touched, and McCree almost lost it when they made their way past his groin. He groaned loudly, almost coming in his jeans, barely holding onto his dignity by a thread. "Hanzo--" he forced out through gritted teeth, squirming and trying not to buck his hips for just a little bit of friction against his dick. He'd been hard for what felt like hours, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

Hanzo spoke a sharp word in Japanese and the dragons, looking almost abashed, slid back towards him and settled into his arm. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "I can't control them much longer. You have to finish." He didn't look to be any more comfortable than McCree, his hips shifting and his chest rising and falling sharply with his breathing. McCree couldn't help himself; he glanced down Hanzo's body and was pleased to see the straining bulge in his jeans. At least he knew he wasn't the only one in dire straits.

"Okay. Last one. Hang on, darlin'." McCree didn't falter in the final recitation. Not once in the entire sessions had he missed a word, screwed up a sentence, or messed up the pronunciation. Hanzo lifted his hand to rest it lightly on McCree's head as he finished up, deftly timing the end of the verse with the final blue scale. As he fell silent, he watched in awe as the entire tattoo glowed bright blue, the light increasing in strength until it was almost blinding. Just as he was about to shield his eyes, the glow faded and Hanzo sighed in relief.

"Did it work?" McCree asked. God, he hoped it had worked. He didn't want to have to go through that again.

"It did," Hanzo replied, his voice filled with relief. "It's done." Without another word, he grabbed McCree by the shoulders and pulled him onto the bed so he was straddling Hanzo's hips. 

"I gotta put lotion on and--" McCree protested weakly.

"Later," Hanzo said through gritted teeth. " _I need you_." He pulled McCree down and kissed him, and the searing touch of his lips -- _finally_ \-- made McCree moan.

Loosed from all constraint, McCree didn't hesitate to open his mouth over Hanzo's, sliding their tongues together as he ground his hips down against Hanzo. They were both so hard, both straining in their jeans, and any ideas McCree might have had about their first time having sex being romantic and gentle had flown out the window several hours before.

"This bed is too narrow!" Hanzo grunted in irritation as McCree's knees threatened to slip off the sides of the bed.

"Yeah, it's not meant for sex," McCree pointed out, kissing Hanzo's jaw and down his neck. Hanzo groaned, his hands gripping McCree's ass as he made his way up to Hanzo's ear, taking it between his teeth and biting gently.

"Get on the floor," Hanzo said, pushing McCree aside and sitting up. "I don't want you falling off the bed while I'm sucking your dick."

"Jesus," McCree muttered, shocked and incredibly turned on by Hanzo's crude language. He was off him in a flash, grabbing a cushion from the desk chair and tossing it down on the ground. Hanzo didn't waste any time, almost _stalking_ towards McCree before pushing him down towards the floor. 

The carpet was thin but blessedly clean, and McCree happily pulled Hanzo down after him until the shorter man was lying between his thighs. He slid his hands up Hanzo's arms, feeling slightly disappointed that he now felt only a hint of emotion from the tattoo, but it was hard to care when Hanzo was rutting between his legs, his cock dragging against McCree's, frustratingly still covered by denim.

"Too many clothes," Hanzo grated, fumbling with the buttons of McCree's shirt. McCree tried to help him, and between them they managed to get his shirt open with only one button pinging off into a corner. McCree was about to return the favour with Hanzo's jeans, his hands already sliding down his sides to his waistband, but was distracted by Hanzo kissing his neck and down to his chest before latching onto a nipple.

"Jesus Christ," McCree gasped, hips bucking up as he slid a hand into Hanzo's hair. Hanzo hummed appreciatively as he sucked and licked, tonguing the hard nub, and McCree didn't even try to bite back his moan. He looked down at Hanzo and tugged his head back a little, relishing the sight of this usually composed and unreadable man whose hair was now in a tangled halo around his head, his mouth red and wet, and his eyes wild.

"Jesse," Hanzo panted, rutting his hips against McCree's thigh. "I want--"

"I know y'do," McCree replied, tugging him back up for a kiss. "I can feel how hard you are, damn." He distracted Hanzo with his mouth, kissing him wet and open-mouthed, muffling his desperate moans as McCree stealthily unzipped both their jeans. Before Hanzo could object, he pushed their underwear down until he could wrap his hand around Hanzo's dick. Hanzo's entire body jerked, a groan erupting from his chest as he pushed his hips into McCree's hand. His cock was hot and damp, and McCree grinned into the kiss as he felt a drop of fluid form at the head.

"Please," Hanzo muttered, wrapping his own hand around McCree's dick to reciprocate. McCree lost the ability to speak as that warm hand stroked him, squeezing him at the base and sliding up to the tip. Hanzo thumbed the head of his dick, slick precome easing the way, and McCree let out a shout.

"I-- I wanted to take y'home," he said in a rough voice, "I wanted you in my bed, all naked and looking up at me while I rode your dick." He kissed Hanzo again, heat building in his groin and spreading throughout his body. "God, I want you so bad."

"Later," Hanzo promised, his voice cracking as McCree stroked him faster. "And-- I wanted you in my bed, my mouth on your cock. _Jesse_ \--" He cut himself off with a groan, his body tensing and his back arching, and McCree grinned viciously as Hanzo came hard, coating McCree's hand and stomach in come. 

Hanzo buried his face in McCree's neck, breathing hard, but he didn't slow his own strokes. McCree wrapped his legs around Hanzo's thighs, rutting up into his hand, the way eased by Hanzo's come. It was filthy, _delightfully_ so, to be jerked off by someone using their own come as lube, and it was mere moments before McCree grunted and came, thrusting up into the tight circle of Hanzo's fingers as he added his come to the mess on his stomach and chest.

"Oh my God," McCree murmured, relaxing his grip and letting his head fall back to the cushion. "Darlin'--"

Hanzo moaned wordlessly, his face still buried in McCree's neck. His hair, completely loose from its tie, fell like a curtain over his shoulders, and McCree slowly combed the fingers of his prosthetic hand through it. 

"You are using your metal hand," Hanzo pointed out. 

"Yeah, I know," McCree said dreamily.

"Can you even feel that?"

"Mmmhmm." It was different, that was for sure, but the cutting-edge prosthetic was able to transmit mild sensations. Besides, his other hand was covered in come, and when he raised it and reached for Hanzo's hair, Hanzo backed away with a laugh.

"Okay, fine," McCree groused, feigning offense. "C'mon, let's clean up. Then I better put some lotion on your arm."

Hanzo didn't move, instead running his fingers down McCree's prosthetic. "How did you get this?" he asked in a quiet voice. 

McCree was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "I had a misspent youth," he said, "and that's putting it mildly."

"You and me both, then," Hanzo replied, kissing his neck. 

"You?" McCree craned his neck to look down at Hanzo. "Hope you don't mind me saying, but you kinda come off as a mild-mannered businessman."

Hanzo laughed, the sound somewhat pained. "Yes, you _would_ see that. It is, after all, what everyone is meant to see. But I never told you what kind of business my family is in."

"Bit dangerous, is it?"

Hanzo looked at him seriously for a moment before glancing away. "You could say that," he replied, rolling off McCree and sitting up. "You aren't the only one with part of you missing." Without looking at McCree, he leaned over to roll up the legs of his jeans, exposing slim ankles and, to McCree's surprise, metallic prosthetics going all the way up to just below his knees.

"Damn," McCree said softly, reaching out to touch the cool metal. "Looks like we both got stories to share."

Hanzo nodded, putting his clothes to rights and standing up. "Perhaps we should do that over dinner," he suggested as he went back to sit on the bed. McCree followed him, grabbing the tube of lotion off his desk and popping the cap.

"Just dinner?" he said with a sly smile. He squeezed out a generous amount and started smearing it gently on the fresh ink, wincing a little as he saw how much it had been seeping during their tryst. He should have got onto this immediately; what kind of professional was he?

Hanzo didn't seem to care, only flinching slightly when McCree started bandaging him. "Perhaps after dinner, you can take me back to your place and -- what was it you said?" He looked up at McCree with a wide grin. "Get me naked on your bed so you can ride my dick."

"It's a date," McCree said, unable to stop his own smile.

**Author's Note:**

> [come find me on tumblr!](http://sherribonne.tumblr.com)


End file.
